


Regret Game: What's Done is Done

by Badgirl19524



Series: Regret Game [4]
Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Everyone is Dead, Feelings, Gen, Headcanon, I'm Sorry, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Sad, Tim is doing okay, be proud of him, he's getting better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-02
Packaged: 2019-07-05 15:47:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15866736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Badgirl19524/pseuds/Badgirl19524
Summary: If life is a game it's a game of regret. It doesn't matter how much you wish to change it or how sorry you are for what you did. What's done is done and you must live with the consequences.Tim has come to accept his life alone.





	Regret Game: What's Done is Done

It was starting to get late, the sky darkening as Tim clocked out, “Hey,” one of the other men at the shop, Dean, stopped him, “The guy's and I are getting drinks tonight, you should come. It would be fun.” He raised his brows looking hopeful.

Tim laughed, but shook his head, “Sorry, but I've got someone to see tonight.” He shrugged, “Next time maybe.” He offered.

The other man seemed interested, “Oh, girlfriend?”

“Not exactly…”

The man pursed his lips, “Boyfriend?” He tried.

Tim laughed, “I wish, Dean, no, it's kinda the anniversary of my friends death… I usually go visit sometime during the week.” He rubbed the back of his neck, holding his jacket awkwardly, not sure what else to say.

“Oh, I-” Dean ducked his head, “Sorry to hear that… you should go. You don't want to be caught out too late.”

“Yeah…” Tim turns to leave, “You guys have fun though.” He said over his shoulder, he didn't quite catch Dean’s reply.

It was a long drive back to the town they used to live in. He'd moved a few times since then before feeling comfortable, changed his medication once, settled into a job at a mechanic's, and he felt normal again. Something was always missing, but it was normal enough to let him sleep at night. Tim’s life had continued, life did that it seemed, even after all that happened. He moved, changed his name, disassociated himself from anything about Marble Hornets. He contemplated deleting the channel multiple times, but in the end he could never bring himself to do it. Tim's memories were fleeting at best and he found himself lost a lot, not lost enough to run around masked in the woods, but his mind was hazy when he thought of the past too long. So he wrote down what he remembered when he could, used notes on his phone, plugged dates into his calendar, desperate not to forget, lest the past creep back up on him. Visiting their graves helped, visiting the town helped, visiting Rosswood helped in a strange way too. He often made a weekend of it, arranged time off work, made sure to have his schedule clear, he put effort into being there to be sure he wouldn't forget them. He couldn't let himself forget them. Not when he almost had a panic attack thinking he forgot Jay's last name for a moment.

The drive of several hours lead him to a little motel, and a single bed room were he dropped off his things before heading out again. It was late, but it usually was when he visited anyway.

The cemetery gates creaked when he pushed them open, he counted plots and rows as he walked through them, he only made the trip to see all of them once a year and he still gets lost when he doesn't count. Tim remembered being here, three years ago, in the pouring rain, dressed in a rented suit without a tie, standing awkwardly away from the grieving family, Jay’s family. Brian's family had been a bit stiff with him, but they knew him, didn't approve of him, but they knew him. But he felt like he was intruding when he’d gone to Jay’s funeral, he said he was an old friend from college, and technically he was, but it wasn't until that year he'd really connected with Jay. And then… he died. Or he was killed, it was strange they hadn't called it murder, but there was never an investigation, not for Jay, not for Brian, and not for Alex, which he was almost glad for seeing as he killed Alex…

All of that was unimportant, though, as he walked over to the correct gravestone, in the dark he couldn't read the words that were chiseled into the stone, but he crouched down and ran his fingers over the name, “Jay Merrick,” Tim sighed, pulling his hand from the grave, and pulled one of the three flowers he was carrying from the bundle and sat it down. He pat the stone and stood up.

“Three years, you know? That’s thirty-six months, or too many days for me to care to count up. A god awful long time to be alone.” He sighed. “Man, I loved Brian, but we both know it's half his fault your dead, it's mostly Alex's and still a little of that was on me too… I guess we just couldn't help but screw each other over in the end. I'd like to say we won, but I don't think we did, maybe we didn't lose exactly, even that's hard to say though.” He half laughed, half sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It doesn't really matter now though, does it? It's over and that's that.

“Don't get me wrong, if I could change it, I would. If I could go back in time and talk to myself, first off, I'd probably slap me, second, I'd say, ‘Hey, remember all that weird ass drug haze from when you were a kid? Yeah, prepare for a relapse and this time, tell your goddamn friends so you don't get everyone killed!’” He snorted, it wasn't funny, it was just ridiculous, and impossible. But he had many times wished he'd done things differently. Wished he'd remembered Brian under the black mask, wished he'd known that it was him and not Alex who started it, wished he'd taken better care of Jay. “But wasting my time regretting the past will land me right where you are, my friend, and I know that none of you want that.” He looked down at the two roses remaining in his hand, “Well,” he chuckled bitterly, “Alex might.”

Tim stayed a little longer with Jay before he hummed softly, deciding it was time to move on. “Bye Jay…” he murmured, moving back to the path and across the graveyard to a different section.

Brian was buried here too, just on the other side of the yard. Tim remembered his funeral a little better, Brian's family might not have liked or approved of their relationship, but they understood he cared about him, and they let him pay his respects no matter how stiff and how annoyed many of them seemed to be by the fact he had come. His family was religious, and Brian had grown up with that religion, but when he got older he deviated from it, quietly of course as his family would not approve. He experimented with himself, he found himself, and where he found himself was met with distasteful glares at the hand he held in his. Tim's hand. His family really didn't like him… Tim didn't care about it too much though, because Brian liked him, and that was all he needed.

“Hey…” his voice was soft and sad and warm as he walked up to the grave stone, setting down a rose. His fingers touched the cool stone, the night was becoming chill and Tim was glad he wore his jacket. “I missed our anniversary, sorry for that. I would have come, but it was a Wednesday and I couldn't get someone to cover my shift at the shop.” Tim fiddled with the last rose he held, as if he might have disappointed the dead man. “I-I quit smoking… I know you always nagged me for it, it's been a rough year without them, but instead of buying cigarettes, I put the money for a pack in a jar. I'm planning to fix up the house. Finally settling down again, it's a nice place, you would've liked it.” He smiled a little to himself, a bittersweet feeling in his chest. “I hope you're proud of me, I've done all of this for you, mostly you, but I did it for Jay and Jessica, and yeah, Alex too. I wish I did more for me, considering you're dead and all, but baby steps, you know?” He laughed, not that it was funny, but because he knew exactly what Brian would say.

He'd shake his head, that lopsided smirk on his lips, ‘Really Tim? All that sentiment and no ring on your finger?’

Brian would want him to move on, and in some ways he had, but in other's three years, just didn't seem long enough, he never even thought to look for another relationship. He might never.

“I'll stop by again.” Tim said after a long quiet standing over the silent grave.

Alex’s family had a different graveyard, and the sun was peaking over the horizon by the time he got to it, the rose had wilted by the time he sat it down. He never had much to say to Alex, he never knew what sentiments to give or what about his current life to tell him. Part of him was still angry with Alex for what he did, but another part knew that Alex had been sick, he had been controlled, and in the end, it wasn't his fault. Still he left the grave not long after getting there.

Tim returned to his motel, taking off his shoes and jacket, sitting on the bed as the sun was rising. Another year gone by, alone. His phone buzzed on the stand, he must have forgot it when he left. The screen lit up with a familiar face, blue eyes crossed, tongue out, just being silly. Dean.

He smiled.


End file.
